The World Was Their Oyster
by MaryRoyale
Summary: Most students were excited about graduation from Hogwarts, but Evan Rosier could care less. Graduation paled in comparison to his plans for the future. Submission for the QLFC S02R05. No pairing.


_**The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Season 2 Round 5**_

_**Team:**__ Falmouth Falcons_

_**Author: **__MaryRoyale_

_**Position:**__ Beater #2_

_**Round 5 Challenge: **__Each team was assigned a lesser-known character that had died early in either the First or Second War. The Falmouth Falcons got Evan Rosier who died in 1980._

**_Chosen Life Event:_**_Graduation_

_**Title:**__ The World Was Their Oyster  
__**Official Disclaimer**__: The original characters of this story are the property of the J.K. Rowling. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. It is my contention that this work of fan fiction is fair use under copyright law. No monies received for receipt of this work. _

_**Pairing: **__None_

_**Rating:**__ T  
__**Word Count:**__ approx. 1300 _

_**A/N: **__According to Mad-Eye Moody, Evan Rosier fought to the death. He would have been young-about the same age as the Marauders-and he fought Auror Moody to the death. He didn't try to run away, and he refused to yield. From the little info we have, it sounds as though Evan Rosier was a hard-core fanatic for the cause. I have tried to write this story from that perspective-that of someone who truly believes that Voldemort's cause is just._

_Also, Modred is a variant of Mordred._

_/\/\/\_

The halls of Hogwarts were filled to bursting with excited students and proud parents. Evan sat in one of the windows overlooking all of it with a slightly bored air. He couldn't help but view his fellow classmates as mere children. They were all still focused on childish pursuits-who was dating who, what so-and-so was doing this summer. It irritated him that so many of them were absolutely blind to the war going on in the outside world. Frank Longbottom walked by and nodded. Evan nodded back politely. Very well, some people _were_ aware. He had heard that Longbottom had signed up for the Auror program; a shame that, especially since the Longbottom family would have been a nice feather in the Dark Lord's cap.

"Rosier," Avery drawled and leaned against the stone wall with an arrogant elegance that never failed to draw admiring glances. His robes were pristine, as always Avery never failed to cut a dashing figure for among the student body.

"Avery." Evan watched him and waited.

"The patriarchs have arrived." Avery smirked at a group of Fifth Years who were watching him and whispering.

With a sigh of resignation Evan pushed himself off the stone ledge and straightened his robes. He glanced at Avery and quirked a brow. "Well?"

Avery moved forward and fiddled with Evan's tie. "There. Now you look presentable. Come along."

As the two young men moved through the crowded halls toward the Great Hall fellow students moved out of their way. Rosier revelled in the respect and awe in the eyes of those who parted before him. _This_ was what it meant to be a pureblood: respect and admiration from your fellows.

"Rosier, Avery!"

Both men turned around and waited for the figure hurrying toward them.

"Snape," Evan murmured. "We're going to see the old paterfamilias for Rosier and Avery."

Snape's eager expression faltered slightly, and Rosier felt a slight pang for the man. It was always moments like this that rubbed Snape's half-blood status in his face. There was no Snape paterfamilias. There was no one here at all to watch Severus Snape graduate.

"You can come along if you want," Avery offered. "My grandfather was talking about sponsoring a Potions Mastery this year. He wants to make sure it goes to the right sort of person."

"Of course," Snape murmured.

The three of them continued down to the Great Hall where Avery introduced Snape to his grandfather. Avery's grandfather was a bit old to be a Death Eater, of course, but his father had been and come next week Snape, Avery and Evan would join the ranks.

"Avery," Evan asked later when they were alone again.

"Hmm?" Avery glanced away from the group of girls he was flirting with to look at Evan.

"This doesn't really feel like the real thing, does it?" Evan struggled to voice the feeling of lassitude that had permeated his being the last couple weeks.

Avery blinked and frowned. "What are you getting at Rosier?"

"_This_." Evan waved a hand to indicate the milling crowds of happy, chattering people. "It doesn't feel real."

"Ah." Avery put his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Well, I suppose that's because it doesn't matter. Our _real_ graduation is next week."

Evan nodded, relieved that Avery felt the same. The ceremony they would attend next week would serve the purpose of sealing them to the Dark Lord and his cause. Evan could hardly wait.

"I, for one, can't wait to be quit of this place," Avery muttered. "To never have to see Dumbledore's stupid face smiling down at us from the head table."

Evan snorted in amusement. "That will be quite pleasant."

"Come one, let's go find Mulciber. See what trouble he's gotten in to on the last day," Avery murmured.

/\/\/\/\

"This is an important night," Modred Rosier reminded his son. He straightened Evan's cravat.

"I know Father." Evan stood straight and tall while his father looked him over.

Modred nodded to himself. "You'll do," he said at last.

Pride swelled in Evan's chest. He had been raised for this moment. His father had been one of the Dark Lord's first Death Eaters, and Modred Rosier had carefully groomed his son to join him among the Dark Lord's ranks. Evan had been studying the Dark Arts ever since his graduation from Hogwarts, preparing for tonight.

"Are you ready?" Modred asked.

"Yes sir," Evan answered confidently.

"Remember, show no fear," Modred cautioned him. "And trust in the Dark Lord. He wants you to join us, Evan. He's been so proud of all of the young men in your year who were smart enough to request admittance."

"Yes sir." Evan wasn't afraid, he was excited.

"Very good," Modred murmured. He clapped Evan bracingly on the shoulder and then turned to go into the Floo.

The Dark Lord was charismatic. He was handsome, suave and urbane-all that went without saying-but he was charismatic as well. There was an almost hypnotic quality to his voice that had one agreeing to what he was saying before one realized it. Evan couldn't believe how lucky he was to be here tonight. He glanced surreptitiously to the left and saw Avery standing there looking every inch the proud, noble pureblood. Mulciber was standing just beyond and he was hanging on to the Dark Lord's every word.

"We are the bastions of our world," the Dark Lord was intoning in rich tones. "The guardians of our culture and our families. It falls to us to protect everything that we hold dear."

Evan could feel his head nod and he noticed out of the corner of his eye Snape nodding too.

"These few, these proud young wizards are the best of the next generation, the finest that our society has to offer," the Dark Lord continued. "It is no surprise to me to find that their names come from the finest of our pureblood families. Blood will tell, as they say, and it has proved itself well tonight."

A small murmur went through the crowd and the Dark Lord smiled benevolently at them. He motioned all of them step forward.

"Bare your left arm," One of the Death Eaters at the Dark Lord's side announced.

Quickly, Evan used a sticking charm to hold his robe's sleeve out of his way. He bared his left arm proudly and waited for the next instruction.

"Take up your wands," The Death Eater instructed.

The slender hardness of Evan's wand was comforting. He wrapped his fingers around it tightly and waited.

"Repeat after me," The Death Eater continued.

Evan swore fealty to the Dark Lord. He pledged his honour, his wand arm, and his life. He was proud that his voice stayed steady-he was certain he heard Mulciber falter at one point, and he watched the Dark Lord's eyes narrow and flick towards that corner of the room. Then the Dark Lord himself came forward and cradled Evan's arm in his hand. He took up his own wand and put the tip of it on Evan's skin.

The Dark Mark burned as the Dark Lord set it. Evan bit his lips and breathed slowly in and out through his nose. He refused to whimper like Avery or hiss in pain like Mulciber. He would do this and he wouldn't make a sound. Approval shone in the Dark Lord's eyes and then Evan couldn't feel the pain at all. It was there, but it didn't touch him.

When the ceremony was completed there was a small reception. The ladies were allowed back into the room, and Evan's mother hurried across the room to her son and husband.

"Well?"

Modred smiled. "Show her son."

Evan held out his arm to his mother who gasped and clapped her hands in pleasure.

"Oh, Evan," she sniffled and pulled out a lace handkerchief from her bag to dab at her eyes. "We're so proud of you sweetheart."

Again, Evan could feel the Dark Lord's eyes on him and Evan glanced up to see the proud smile that twitched at the corners of his Lord's mouth.

"I know."


End file.
